For fans of Timothy Zahn's Star Wars works.          

            Every event in history presents a question...

                                                                          what if things turned out differently? 

            Grand Admiral Thrawn's eyes flickered with sudden insight.  It was barely noticeable,

but Palleon who stood by his side through countless campaigns knew it well.   Slowly and

impassively, Thrawn straightened his white admiral's jacket settled deeper into his command

chair.  The Imperial Star Destroyer's bridge continued its quiet chatter as the pit crew carried

on their routine.  The vast view ports gave an impressive view of the stars, and Palleon

availed himself of it.  The admiral would share his revelation when it pleased him, if at all.

Thrawn certainly deserved such liberties.  He had embarassed the New Republic for monthes on

end now since his return from the Outer Regions, and given hope to even the most demoralized

Imperial troops.  As Palleon surveyed the stars, he couldn’t help but be distracted by the

Nogrhi bodyguard standing just a few paces away.  Despicable creatures.  Why Thrawn insisted

on having them near escaped him.  The Noghri were short, skinny aliens whose size was no

indicator of their lethality.  Tight muscles rippled beneath their short fur, which somehow

managed to conceal small bladed weapons which could end a man's life faster than a blaster

burn.  And they were utterly loyal to the Empire, thanks to the deception of Lord Vader

decades ago. 

            Palleon's reverie was interuppted by a sudden word from Thrawn.  "Leave us, Noghri." 

Palleon was taken aback by the Noghri's response- it did not obey instantly, as was the

creatures custom.  It hesitated, and seemed extremely tense.  As if it were racing through

its options...

            "As you wish, my Lord," it finally responded in its low mewing tambre, and withdrew silently

through the blast doors at the rear of the bridge. 

            "How loyal would you say the Noghri are?" Thrawn asked Palleon.  He rested an elbow

 on the arm of his chair, and rubbed his chin. 

            "Absolutely loyal," Palleon said quickly, wondering why he was doubting his own answer.

"They have served the Empire for over ten years, performing covert operations, assasinations,

even suicide missions, all without complaint.  They live to serve us."

            "They lived to serve us," Thrawn replied quietly.  "I am not sure what has changed

them, but our Noghri friend was about to sheathe his ceremonial knife in my chest."

            Palleon struggled to hide his surprise. 

            "I must confess, I am unaware of what led the Noghri to an understanding of how their

world was not poisoned by accident, but it seems we can no longer employ them in our efforts.

Commander Taggart?"

            "Yes Admiral?" Taggart stepped forward from his command and control display near the

pit crew. 

            "All Nogrhi operations are to be suspended at once.  Order the evacuation of imperial

troops from their homeworld, and prepare instructions for all ships not to allow Noghri operatives to

return on board.  They are no longer a part of the Empire."

            "Yes sir," he nodded his head in an abbreviated salute and returned to the pit to carry

out the orders.

            "What of the Noghri here on the Chimaera?" Palleon asked.

            The admiral's eyes narrowed.  "Eliminate them."