Infiltration (Thrawn x Reader)

Chapter 1 - Tarkin

12 BBY, six months stationed on the Star Destroyer Deliverance

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Two Class I Star Destroyers were orbiting above the dry planet I was currently marching across. The rest of our battalion was still back in the main city, but my squadron had been sent in pursuit of some wanted smugglers.

It took us almost six hours of trudging through the desert to finally track them to a small town. The cantina we were in was slow for the late hour, with only a few clusters of patrons. I had known instantly one of the groups were the people we'd been tracking, but my squad leader was convinced by their alibis. He was ready to leave the town and keep searching, and I couldn't help but think him a fool.

I looked over my squad. The desert had not been kind to us; one of the troopers was showing signs of heat stroke: vomiting and stumbling, and I myself had a headache that was becoming harder to ignore. The way our Commander was acting, I wondered if his own mental state was affected by the heat.

Now, it was almost dark, and I knew we would not survive in the desert all night. I couldn't see the trooper's faces under their helmets, but I could see the slight curves to their spines, their exhaustion beginning to wear them down.

"Commander, with your permission, I'd like to ask that group another question," I said with respect, nodding my head to the people.

"No Lieutenant, we're leaving."

"The man in the leather jacket is injured, sir," I said, my tone still respectful, though it was skewed by my helmet.

The squad leader turned to look at them again, but only for a moment. "So?" he finally asked.

"He's hiding it. I believe it might a blaster wound from-" to my immense irritation, he interrupted me. I swallowed my temper.

"I said, we're leaving." He began to turn. As he did so, movement caught my eye.

The injured man's companion – the one that was facing us – was reaching toward his hip. I was still facing them directly, and clearly, I had spooked him. Before my Commander had even finished his turn toward the door, I took aim and fired. The blaster bolt went straight through his chest, leaving a seared hole.

I registered the early sounds of confusion, but my eyes remained on the now falling man and his three companions. The only non-human in their group, a Gotal male, reached for his blaster, but again, I fired first. I heard our squad leader begin to protest, but as he did, my instincts flared. What had I missed?

The Twi'lek sitting alone at the bar, far to our right, had his blaster up. I turned to shoot him, but I wasn't quick enough. The shots rang in my ears as I sensed my squad leader's sudden agony. My own bolt hit the green skinned man in the shoulder a split second later, his own screams ringing out like an echo.

This whole exchange took less than ten seconds, but there were still three enemies in the cantina. Thinking quick, I looked around. A booth was a few feet in front of me. I jumped up, landing on the back of it, cursing the clunky armor. The impact caused the booth to fall backward, where I then shoved it as hard as I could, blocking my idiot Commander from further fire as he roiled in pain on the ground like a child.

Changing courses, I slid underneath the table as I finally heard my fellow trooper's return fire. My momentum pushed the other booth seat right into the man who'd originally caught my attention. He stumbled, but before he fell, I wrapped my gloved hands around his leather jacket, yanking him back up and slamming him onto the closest table with a loud thud.

As I cuffed him, I realized the sounds of blaster fire were gone. Some of the chaos was already dying down as people fled through the front and side doors. I noted two troopers reaching the exits to further prevent people from leaving. I rolled my eyes under my helmet; the troop leader was still screaming. I picked up my prisoner and shoved him toward another trooper, then pulled out an emergency stim. I shoved it into my leader's now exposed neck. He'd removed his helmet, and blood was flowing from somewhere underneath his broken armor. I recognized that the wound must be more serious than I'd first thought.