The first rays of sunlight over Coruscant's eastern hemisphere streamed through the window and fell across a set of ancient pages. It was an exceptionally rare book made of paper, thick and densely covered in tiny print. A robot no larger than a palm was using high-precision optical equipment to assist with reading—a magnifying glass, in other words.
With a rustle, the page turned. The small robot immediately returned to the top of the page, its precision sensors constantly tracking the reader's eye movements and adjusting the magnifying glass in real time, ensuring not the slightest delay in reading.
Mitth'raw'nuruodo Thrawn studied the ancient words on the page, and a faint restlessness suddenly rose within him. He stood and walked to the window. Through the alloy bars, his gaze passed over the forest of modern buildings and settled upon the triangular silhouette looming indistinctly amid the morning clouds...
An Imperial II-class Star Destroyer. It hung in the dawn light, its triangular hull radiating a chilling terror.
"Storms... are coming," Thrawn murmured.
Then his gaze dimmed. He understood that whatever was about to happen had nothing to do with a prisoner like him.
Ever since the Northern Territory Campaign, when his conflict with Dunn Vesex had led to the latter stripping him of his command, and he had been charged with war crimes for causing the destruction of Iron Moon, the moon of Parlin Minor, he had been arrested by the Imperial Inquisitorius and held here ever since.
What puzzled him, however, was that he had not suffered the brutal treatment he had expected. Instead, he had merely been confined to this solitary cell, where the living conditions were actually quite good. Even his Imperial Navy uniform had not been confiscated; only his insignia had been removed.
What was more, his