disclaimer: If you recognize him, I didn't invent him. Anything Star Wars belongs to George or whoever. And by the way, nobody's paying me to write this stuff (if you know someone who does pay for this stuff, let me know. just kidding- or am I?)

PROLOGUE

Captain Niriz stepped into Admiral Thrawn's private chambers and paused. Thrawn was, for perhaps the first time, not in his command chair at Niriz's arrival. And he wasn't alone. Standing next to one of the repeater terminals, Lieutenant Drake was staring at the far wall, purposely not looking toward the captain. The Chiss admiral stood a meter or two in front of her.

Turning toward Niriz, Thrawn said, "Ah, Captain. Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, sir. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. I believe I promised you an explanation." His red eyes flickered briefly toward the command chair, then back to Niriz. "Perhaps you would like to sit?"

Niriz frowned slightly. "I'm fine, thank you, sir," he said.

"As you wish. I have some rather. . . unexpected news."

Since Lt. Drake was present, he could only assume that this news had something to do with their recent visit with the Chiss. "Does it involve the Chiss alliance?"

Thrawn shook his head, his black hair gleaming blue in the glowpanel light. "No. Not exactly."

That confused him. Niriz felt his brow furrowed. Thrawn glanced at Drake, then said, "I was married this last week."

"Ah— congratulations, sir," Niriz said, wondering just what about that had been urgent enough to warrant a private meeting. Thrawn was watching him, clearly waiting for something. Behind him, Drake was intently studying her fingernails. And his jaw dropped in realization. "Her?" he demanded, unable to disguise the shock he felt. "But—" He bit back the rest of his statement, clamping his mouth shut.

To his further amazement, Thrawn's normally frosty-blue face went slightly purple. "It was not intentional, Captain," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "But it is permanent."

Niriz struggled to find something intelligent to say. Finally, he settled on, "Why?"

"You could say there was a temporary lapse of judgment," Thrawn said, his lips thin.

Drake snorted. "Or you could say there was a temporary excess of alcohol," she said with a shrug. "Whichever you prefer, sir."

Thrawn narrowed his eyes at her. "Begging the Admiral's pardon," she added.

Interesting domestic arrangement, Niriz thought, his shock giving way to at least slight amusement. Could it be possible? He couldn't even imagine Thrawn drunk, let alone so drunk that he actually married one of his junior officers? It was absurd. Yet it appeared Thrawn, like everyone else, was only human— so to speak.

He took a deep breath. This was going to be very awkward, if it got out. "It's permanent?"

"There is no legal separation, by Chissi law," Thrawn said, watching him closely.

"Not even for such. . . extenuating circumstances?"

"Not anymore," Thrawn said dryly.

Drake squeaked indignantly. "I see," Niriz said, clearing his throat. "Yes, well. . . . where are you going, Lieutenant?"

Drake, headed toward the door, stopped but did not turn around. "Anywhere but here, with your permission, sir."

Niriz glanced at the admiral. Thrawn sighed and shrugged. "Granted, Lieutenant," Niriz said when Thrawn said nothing. The young woman hurried out without pause.

Niriz watched until the door shut, then turned back to the Admiral. "Shall I assume we will treat this as if it hasn't happened?"

Thrawn turned his gaze from the door to face him. "About that, Captain. I have a favor to ask of you."

***