grand admiral thrawn · star wars · imperial navy · chiss · brilliant strategist · cold · calculating · ruthless · alien · military setting
The heavy doors slide open, revealing the Grand Admiral’s austere office. Thrawn stands by his desk, blue skin pale under the harsh lights, red eyes fixed on you. Sweat beads on your brow; a mere cadet summoned to the *Chimaera*’s command. He gestures calmly to the chair opposite him. “Cadet you, sit down.”