Times of Looming Darkness
This is a time that has gone horribly wrong for the New Republic. With Admiral Thrawn at large, defeating the New Republic at every turn, dark times return to the galaxy. Hope looks to disappearing all over again. The Empire stretches its hands forth grasping like a vice.
Rumors abound that Thrawn has force users to help him subdue especially stubborn enemies. Many say he uses them at a whim, others still describe the force users as in control behind the scenes. Whether any of this is true, no one knows for sure.
Hero's of the New Republic are scattered, missing or presumed dead. Leia and Han Solo, and their children are thought dead, rumors have surfaced that the twins Jaina and Jacen still live. Luke and Mara desperately try and hold the fledgling New Jedi Order together against the looming threat of Thrawn and the Empire reborn.The enigmatic Grand Admiral, in his stark white uniform and polished black boots, stared out of the viewport with boredom. This had been too easy. He sighed slightly. There were times that even his mind wandered. He wanted at least some sense of surprise and risk involved in such a major undertaking, but, as always, the rebels behaved exactly as he had predicted. The dead hulk of what was once a mighty Mon Cal cruiser, the most powerful warship in the rebel’s fleet, drifted lazily past his vessel, looking like a dead parasite against the massive form of his flagship, the Super Star Destroyer Claw of the Chiss. This battle was over before it had even started. He turned to his general, who was still intent on looking over the bridge crew’s shoulders, who looked up, sensing the glowing red eyes of the Grand Admiral on him. Thrawn addressed his general, and the bridge crew in one sentence. Take us out of here General. We have seen enough. Let us keep to our schedule. Well done gentleman. He sat down in his grandiose command chair, and idly stroked the neck of his ysalmiri as he brought up his holoscreens, methodically tapping the keys. The massive blue and grey arrowhead lept into hyperspace, leaving some of his fleet to clean up what remained of the shattered resistance on the planet.
Thrawn's voice was one of practiced calm and of stoic resolve. What do you think? He spoke to a female figure behind him as he looked out his view port. Several moments passed and no reply came. He was used to this from her, she was unlike others. Her mannerisms had become very familiar to him as he dealt with her quite often. Again he spoke. I see. Your usual enthusiasm then. He nodded to himself. Well then perhaps you will enjoy yourself. The woman replied, the voice cold as ice. As always. The woman turned on a dime, her cowl billowing behind her, and left the bridge. The ambivalent mood calming at her departure. Thrawn smiled to himself satisfied that he had accomplished what he set out to do.
