Epilogue
Commander Parck idly swirled the last of the brandy around in his tumbler, watching the ship's light refracting in the green-blue depths. "All in all," he said, picking up the dropped conversation, "everything worked out."
"Certainly not by the book," Thrawn voice floated back from the other room. "Or," he added, walking past the hanging embroidered pelt back into the room, "in any way that I would prefer."
Parck chuckled, downing the last sip. "Indeed not." Getting to his feet, he finished doing up the last of the neck clasps of his own dress uniform, while looking at the admiral.
While still on medical leave, Thrawn looked more alive than he had for the last week. Even after four days in the tanks, he was still not completely healed. His right arm and shoulder were still encased in bacta-laden bandages, with the arm trapped at his side by a sling. No doubt, Parck mused, the Command Cook had been trying to feed him up, too, to put something on the too-prominent bones. The old cook always complained that the admiral didn't eat nearly enough, and lost the weight too quickly after bacta sessions.
"Need a hand?" Parck inquired casually, motioning to the dress coat slung over the back of the chair. At the other's nod, Parck proceeded to slide the sling off and slip the large coat over top. "You know," he said, "Dagon is finally starting to loosen up a bit. Actually attempted humor on the bridge." He slipped the sling back over the uniform, settling the arm in it.
"Oh?"
"Yes, although he still gets a bit snappish when things don't follow through as expected. A few more missions ought to take care of that, though." Finishing the last of the buttons, he stepped back. "Done."
Thrawn nodded his thanks, shifting the sling with his left hand. "Is the captain going to join us tonight?"
"Well, he can't exactly pull the sick card again, with you still in traction." Parck smiled. "Shall we head down to what will undoubtedly be a long, tedious evening of speeches and ill made food?" he said, holding the door open.
Thrawn smiled slightly. "Now, now, Commander. Think of it as informative," he said, stepping through.
Parck snorted, but refrained from commenting.