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No—it was impossible. The relationship between him and The Jedi was one of the darkest and most impenetrable secrets in the galaxy.
And here, Anakin knew, was where it got fun.
I must ask you once again to trust me.” Trust. It was something Thrawn continued to ask for. It was something The Jedi had valued greatly. It was a quality Vader himself had little experience with.
The helm was studiously not looking up at Vader and his admiral. Commodore Faro was carefully not joining into the conversation.
Did they think he would defy their admiral’s order and refuse? Did they think he wouldn’t do it? Did they think he couldn’t do it?
There was a flicker in Thrawn’s sense. Vader looked up, to see a small smile on his face. “Do you find this amusing, Admiral?” he challenged. “No, not at all, my lord,” Thrawn hastened to assure him. “I was simply recalling a memory. I told you the Chiss call this talent Third Sight. What I hadn’t yet spoken of is the title these navigators are given once they take their posts.” “Which is?” “The Cheunh word is ozyly-esehembo,” Thrawn said. “In Basic, it translates to ‘sky-walker.’ ” Another small smile. “You can imagine my momentary confusion when I first encountered General Anakin Skywalker.”
Padmé shook her head, her thoughts flashing back to that terrible day, that terrible frozen moment when Anakin had confessed his slaughter of the Sand People. “He won’t listen to me,” she said, blinking back tears. “Once he’s decided something, he won’t listen to anyone.” Thrawn was silent a moment. “Then there’s indeed nothing we can do.”
Thrawn pointed out. “I cannot help but wonder if the armor is intended for some other purpose.” “Was intended,” Anakin said, leaning on the word. “Was. Whatever Solha and Dooku were planning, it’s no longer relevant.” “Perhaps,” Thrawn said. “Still, it would be wise to think on it, General.”

