Chapter Text
“To summarise…” Vader groaned, pinching the small amount of exposed nose bridge between his respirator and glasses. “… you went behind my back and over my authority to summon a diplomatic delegation from the Chiss Ascendancy that is bound to arrive here on Coruscant within a week.”
“Indeed,” Thrawn confirmed, in that nerve-grating calm that had always made Vader wonder how many more elaborate pranks the Chiss had left in his repertoire.
This was not how Vader had planned to go about his morning. He had much flimsiwork to sort and he had arrived sufficiently inspired to deal with it. In his plans, by 1150 he would have done a significant amount of bureaucratic work, would have concluded what bureaucracies were to be obliterated, and would have been ready for a well-deserved lunch break with his son.
But it was 0940 and Vader had spent the last half hour listening to Thrawn’s announcement of an incoming Chiss ambassy that he had been arranging for since the end of the war, months ago, and how said ambassy was to be received and what deals were to be made.
“Have you forgotten I am the Emperor, Grand Admiral Thrawn?” Threateningly, Vader pointed his index finger at Thrawn, tempted to reach across his desk (his messy, disorganised desk, buried beneath flimsiwork that Vader HAD begun to sort up until the Chiss interrupted him) and jab Thrawn in the chest.
There was not much else he could do, for he had promised his son not to resort to the Force anymore when it came to his staff – in addition, Thrawn had brought his pet ysalamiri (Eta, was it?) with him and was cradling it to his chest as he sat, impassive, on the chair at the other side of the desk.
The ysalamiri.
Narrowing his eyes behind the thick lenses of his glasses, Vader stood up. He had been sitting for too long and the discomfort was starting to gnaw at the oddly lasting patience and tolerance he had found within himself the moment Luke had agreed to return with him to Coruscant and help rebuild what Palpatine had shattered – everything. If he were to have a productive morning at all, he would need all the patience in his arsenal in order to get through to Thrawn…
“I did not, my Lord,” Thrawn began answering Vader’s (rhetoric) question, undisturbed with the black behemoth now pacing around him. “I simply-“
“This is personal to you,” He had known Thrawn for some time now, and though the Chiss was infuriatingly difficult to read even in the Force without an ysalimiri, it was not just him who was capable of keen observations.
“It is personal to me. It concerns the future of the Empire and of the Ascendancy,” Thrawn agreed, unflappable, but it was too late. He was holding his pet ysalamiri tighter. “Without Palpatine, I can make it clearer to you how a mutual alliance between your Empire and the Ascendancy will be the most profitable for both.”
“This is personal to you…” Vader repeated, coming to a halt right next to Thrawn’s chair and forcing him to crane his neck up so that their gazes met. Vader had come to grudgingly admit that he appreciated Thrawn’s audacity and now hoped the Chiss would not disappoint him. “… otherwise you would not have brought the ysalamiri. For someone who requests to be trusted, you are very averse to offer trust yourself, Grand Admiral. You like unravelling secrets yet you hold yours closely.”
There was the slightest twitch to Thrawn’s jaw – likely displeasure towards his little slip, or perhaps a confirmation of Vader’s suspicions.
Vader had always had little patience for games – Anakin Skywalker had not had that patience either. But still he waited, patiently, watching Thrawn and drawing from the odd well of composure that he had found within himself. (Veers had not been lying when he had told Vader that fatherhood changed a man…)
Eventually, Thrawn accepted defeat – more likely, concluded that cooperation would get him more positive results - and released his ysalamiri. The little creature began to unhesitatingly explore Vader’s office, its departure from Thrawn’s embrace lifting a heavy veil that had sealed off Thrawn from the Force.
A torrent of emotions, controlled nonetheless, immediately flickered to life in the vicinity of Vader’s perception. Never, in all the years Vader had known Thrawn, had he ever felt so much passion and instability from the Chiss. Irritation, resignation, hope, fear… longing.
Longing so anguishing that it resonated with a wounded, broken speck in Vader’s soul that Luke’s presence had not healed. It lured Vader into exploiting it, but he had promised Luke that he would not breach the privacy of his underlings’ minds and that he would resort to civilised, constructive dialogue instead.
With a rumbling sound that passed as a sigh, Vader sat at his desk again, splaying his gauntlet-clad fingers on the flimsiwork covering the surface of the desk.
“You long for someone,” Vader began, looking at the situation as if it were a simple matter of navigating one of Luke’s moods. “My Empire is to be built on honesty and trust. I am not playing the games of deception and secret that Sidious was so masterful at. As such… I suggest you start talking, Thrawn.”
A name, no rank. Vader wondered if that made it sufficiently obvious for the Chiss that their official meeting had turned private and fallen into a category of social interactions that Vader was certain emperors did not deal with.
For a moment, Thrawn remained impassive, blinking his glowing red eyes calmly as if contemplating a piece of artwork.
Then the mask fell, so quickly and brutally that it must have been holding together with spite and flimsy-clips for too long.
A scowl settled on Thrawn’s ridged forehead, his eyes narrowed, his lips peeled back to reveal a row of white teeth, his body tensed, his fists clenched over his thighs, a wave of emotion flooded the Force.
“I want him back,” Thrawn snapped, his tone edged and frayed. Such simple words carried a weight understandable only through the Force and Vader, caught by surprise, could only rise his burnt eyebrows up to his non-existent hairline. “I sent him away to protect him, but now you promise an Empire where he can stay. I have lost everything in service, I have been loyal and useful and have brought positive results to both my people and your people, I have been rational-“ A pause. Thrawn’s eyes had gone wide, a seemingly brighter red that dimmed when Thrawn exhaled and unflexed his fingers, diverting his gaze from Vader. “… Everyone is reuniting with someone of importance. I want that. I have only ever asked to serve, but now the time has come for me to ask for a reward and this is my request: I want him back.”
Silence filled the office, heavy and tense and uncomfortable, muting even the ysalamiri scuttling around happily, oblivious to the outburst of its master. Thrawn kept his gaze low, his arms now firmly crossed in front of his chest and his jaw working discreetly. A storm still swirled around him in spite of his valiant, desperate efforts to yank everything into place again.
In his nearing forty-six years of life, Vader had witnessed many horrors and many wonders… and Grand Admiral Thrawn having a breakdown in front of him fell in both categories. The Chiss, a mystery wrapped inwards into a riddle, had always had something inhuman about him – not for his species, and not only during the time Vader knew him in the Empire. His processing of the galaxy around him, his response to others, his unbreakable composure, his infuriatingly strong mental shields… all had made him an admirable aberration. A target. An enemy. An ally to be handled with caution.
Yet now Vader saw him just as… just as he had been helped into seeing himself: a man, broken but who could be healed.
For a moment, the thought of sending Thrawn off to talk to Luke crossed Vader’s mind. Luke was skilled with people. Luke gave excellent advice. Luke had somehow convinced Kreel to attend therapy. Stars, Luke had saved Vader!
But Luke was not the Emperor nor the highest-ranking military figure of the Empire. It was not Luke who had vowed to finally build something that would make Padmé proud and that would function the way Anakin Skywalker and Vader had often envisioned. Months ago, when overthrowing Sidious, Vader had thought that becoming the new Emperor would be a simple task of military prowess and the Force; overtime and through recovery, Vader had realised that he did not want an Empire of subjects… he wanted an Empire of people.
And he could not do it alone, he knew. He needed allies, and he had them.
Vader had just not foreseen that maintaining his allies would lead to such awkward situations where all boundaries blurred into the companionable, almost familiarity that bound war veterans together. It had been easier with the clones.
“Who-“ Vader began, cautiously, trying to find a way through the rubble. His voice snapped Thrawn’s attention back to him, and when those red eyes met his, Vader knew something had definitely broken within the Chiss.
Weakness.
Humanity.
Everything Vader had denied himself but that Luke said he deserved.
“Who is he?” Vader asked, locking his hands above the scattered flimsi on his desk. “And why is he so important that you orchestrated an ambassy to, I presume, bring him into Imperial custody?” Now Thrawn looked positively mortified. The utterly lost look of his usually neutral face would be comical if only it were not Vader having to handle the situation. Sighing, Vader massaged his scarred temples, again taking courage from his experience of handling one of Luke’s moods. “If you do not tell me, I cannot help you…”
It sounded ridiculous when spoken between two adults (even if Luke himself was an adult) …
“You do not need details, only to comply to my plans,” Thrawn replied, his voice taut but almost, almost in its usual neutral tone. “I will handle-“
“No, I need details,” Vader countered, scowling and tilting his head to the side, as much as his respirator allowed him to. The Chiss sitting in front of him had the terrible habit of manipulating everyone into letting him walk away with his secrets, but no more – psychologically compromised and with his ysalamiri out of reach (inspecting Vader’s flimsy bin), Thrawn was… fragile in a way that Vader had never seen before. It was terrifying and an opportunity that could not be missed. “You plotted to bring someone of importance to you into my Empire. What can he do, and why are you choosing to deprive the Ascendancy from what I’m assuming to be a valuable asset?”
Speaking terms Thrawn understood – assets and tools and pieces of a strategical game – earned Vader an almost immediate reaction in the shape of a full-body shudder, as if Thrawn had been unexpectedly hit and was trying to hold himself through the shock of it. His eyes darted around, landing on the ysalamiri for a brief moment… until they turned to hold Vader’s own blue gaze.
The Grand Admiral had been defeated.
The Grand Admiral was taking his defeat and weaponizing it against Vader.
“You know what it is like to send someone away to protect them, to hide them. You did that with your son when you tried to pretend before Palpatine that you were unaware of the fact that Luke lived,” The Chiss’ voice was a whisper, and though Vader narrowed his eyes, he refrained from asking how Thrawn was privy to that topic. “I sent him away to protect him,” A pause, during which Thrawn’s expression became more determined than it ought to be on someone revealing private details on a suddenly informal meeting with a superior officer turned… anything but. “He… was my only weakness. It was pointed out to me by a hypothetical future threat that, while my position was secure due to my connection to the Emperor and Colonel Yularen, he was not,” Another pause. Thrawn’s quiet whispering sharpened, his tone gaining a self-deprecating edge that sounded too familiar to Vader. “I… I failed, as a warrior. I was too scared to… to verify if the threat was real or simply a feint. I couldn’t risk him… and so I sent him away.”
Thrawn had yet to clarify who was he, but the turmoil within him and that Vader was following closely in the Force had already painted a picture that bore colours too close to Vader’s own.
And so different from those of Anakin Skywalker and Padmé.
This was something that Vader had not wanted to know about Thrawn – as long as his subordinates’ private lives did not include treason, Vader was content to being oblivious as to what those around him did behind closed doors. But he had brought this one upon himself and now he must bear with the consequences of his actions.
“Have you-“ Vader began to ask, then paused, argued with himself that he did not need to know if Thrawn had remained in a long-distance relationship or if he was attempting to bring in a bitter… former associate. “Is he aware that you wish him back, and has he agreed to serve the Empire?”
Again, Thrawn looked at his ysalamiri, still exploring the office and out of reach of its master.
Vader sighed.
“You are aware that whatever position he held before being removed from the Empire… will not be given to him,” His words made Thrawn flinch, the barest and most imperceptible movement – physically, for in the Force Thrawn winced and recoiled. “He must earn it. My Empire is a meritocracy; there will be no more power games and backstage influence.”
Briefly, Vader’s mind wandered to his most trusted… associates. Cogs in the machine who had impressed him for their competence, efficiency, perseverance, integrity, loyalty… and who often came from unremarkable or humble backgrounds, with nobody to pull strings for them – Kreel, Piett, Veers, Kimmund… and perhaps even Thrawn himself, in spite of the divine protection that had propelled him through imperial intrigue.
Whoever he was, he certainly must not have come from an important family… but if he had proved himself once to Thrawn, then certainly he could prove himself again to Vader.
To Vader’s satisfaction, Thrawn nodded, agreeing to the terms.
“All I ask…” Thrawn’s voice had gone quiet, not a whisper yet the closest to pleading that Vader had ever heard – even more so than when Thrawn had argued for the rescue of the Force-sensitive children from the Grysks. It was disturbing. “… is that you allow me to handle this. You will see he is a great asset… and he means everything to me.”
Just like Padmé did to Anakin Skywalker.
Just like Luke did to Vader.
It seemed that Grand Admiral Thrawn was in charge of this diplomatic meeting. Which meant less flimsiwork for Vader.
“You will maintain me informed of everything,” Vader demanded, but there was not much else to say. He needed only to wait for the results – and he knew, trusted, that Thrawn would deliver. With the meeting concluded, he half-heartedly reached for his stylus to appear inspired to handle the flimsiwork mocking him on his desk. He either successfully looked like a busy Emperor or Thrawn’s social skills were on a good day: silently, Thrawn stood up, collected his pet ysalamiri from where it had wandered behind Vader’s desk, and left.
About twenty minutes later, Vader’s datapad beeped, announcing a text message from Grand Admiral Thrawn updating him on the progress of the preparations for the ambassy.
It was the beginning of a terrible, week-long bombardment for Vader, who cursed himself for having forgotten that Thrawn would take his command of being informed about everything to the letter – Vader would believe that Thrawn was mocking him if only he hadn’t seen how this was affecting the Chiss. Regardless of the annoyance, Vader had to grudgingly admit Thrawn’s updates were useful and once again showed the Grand Admiral’s capabilities of handling organisation and vaulting over bureaucracies in quite the inspiring way.
But the Chiss slipped… and on the eve of the arrival of the Chiss ambassy, Vader found himself in his office, scowling at Thrawn and at the ysalamiri perched on his shoulder. In one hand, Vader held his datapad with the latest file that Thrawn had sent him.
“Eli N. Vanto will not be reinstated as your aide, Thrawn. I told you that he must prove himself to me,” The file had arrived early that morning, when Vader and Luke were having breakfast. The dismissal of the one thing Vader had demanded the Chiss not to overstep (now that he had leapt over everything else) had greatly soured Vader’s mood, but fortunately Luke had been there to help him come up with a gracious solution that would put Thrawn in his place but also take him out of his misery – not that Thrawn needed to know about this, of course.
(Vader had obviously shared his plight with Luke and how terrible it was to empathise and experience compassion for the blue-skinned menace. Luke had been proud of his father and had reminded Vader that Padmé, too, would be proud. He had also been immediately invested in the drama and, deep down, Vader too could not deny morbid curiosity about how Thrawn’s predicament would turn out.)
With his typical nerve or lack of social decorum (Vader knew Thrawn juggled both), Thrawn opened his mouth to speak, one hand scratching the ysalamiri’s chin:
“But you must’ve noticed that former Commander Vanto, now Lieutenant Commander Vanto, has an extensive resumé where his capabilities and strengths are well documented,” Yes, Vader noticed. Thrawn had highlighted the important parts, meaning Vader had had to read through a very colourful file. “He will easily prove himself to you by working with me again. Perhaps you missed the attached file with his diplomas and reports and-“
No, Vader had not missed it. He had ignored it.
“Eli N. Vanto, now that he has fulfilled his role in the Chiss Ascendancy and broken his contract with the Imperial Navy, will become a regular citizen of the Empire and will be encouraged to search for a job. He will have the pension every discharged officer is entitled to until he has found a source of income, because his breach of contract implies that all benefits given to veterans will not be granted to him. He is not exempt from the taxes all imperial citizens are subject to,” A pause, so that Thrawn could take it all in and so that Vader could gauge the level of resistance from the Chiss. So far, there seemed to be none. “I suggest you inform him of such, and that he will be required to find accommodations as well,” Vader sentenced, his tone clipped and final, yet surprisingly devoid of… anger. Ever since learning this little detail about Thrawn’s personal life, Vader had been expecting a surge of anger, the irrational kind that was moved by the jealousy or by the pain of someone who had lost the love of his life and was unfortunately surrounded by those who still had theirs. Before, anything that would remotely trigger memories of Padmé or of what could have been had she lived, had been sufficient to throw Vader off balance and into an eruption of wrath.
But Veers had been right – fatherhood had changed Vader. Luke had made Vader realise many things, often as simple as many of those around Vader having very similar issues to him – loss was a universal theme within Vader’s inner circle. And this ability to see those around him… Vader actually… enjoyed it.
Even if an uneasy flutter settled in the pit of his stomach as he watched the expression on Thrawn’s face. The Chiss was out of reach in the Force, but his features were… unguarded.
Pinching the small expanse of exposed nose bridge between the respirator and the glasses, Vader then set the datapad down on his desk and began to pace around his office, hooking his thumbs to his belt.
“Whatever you did…” he began, hesitated, but ultimately snorted derisively. Vader wanted his key-personnel to trust him. The clones had trusted Anakin Skywalker, who had failed them… yet Vader would not fail. “… is not beyond redemption. And if you believe he is an asset to the Empire and if you claim he means everything to you… you will give me my asset and will achieve your prize.”
“You do not understand,” Thrawn blurted. Blurted. His expression had turned into stone, his accent was thicker. The ysalamiri was no longer perched on his shoulder but cradled in his arms. “I disrupted his entire life. I ended our personal relationship and sent him to my people. If I have nothing to give him-“
“I attacked my pregnant wife; I sent a bounty hunter to capture my son and when I had him within reach, I maimed him” Vader hissed, stopping his pacing and pointing a threatening index finger at Thrawn. “I lived most of Luke’s life convinced that I had killed my wife and my children. I almost lost my son and my daughter refuses me. I almost allowed Sidious to kill my son before me and every time I look at Luke, I am reminded that I am the reason why he has a prosthetic hand and scars all over his body.”
The silence that settled in the office was heavy, burdened by wounds that bore fresh scars and by an alien, uncomfortable fragility that Vader both abhorred yet wished, needed to express. After so long considering himself a monster, showing humanity was a much needed, satisfying deep breath. Once, Anakin Skywalker had blurred ranks with friendship – only he had failed to make the most of it. Now Vader, older and wiser and scarred, wanted to do better.
For a little longer, the silence stretched. Vader held Thrawn’s glowing red gaze, watched as the Chiss momentarily turned inwards to piece things together before re-emerging, controlled yet not… certain.
“I will… inform the Chiss to pass your message to Lieutenant Commander Vanto,” Thrawn said at last.
Vader surprised himself by groaning and by pressing his palms to his face in an obvious demonstration of exasperation:
“I did not take you as a coward...” Vader huffed, dropping his arms to the sides and experiencing a moment of self-consciousness as his prosthetic arm felt so natural in executing such a… human… gesture. “You are going to solve this, Grand Admiral, and you are going to solve this swiftly and with no repercussions to the functioning of my Empire.”
With that, Thrawn was dismissed and Vader would recuperate from playing a role that was most definitely not related to being the emperor. As soon as Thrawn left, Vader went to look for Luke to update him.
His only solace was that, regardless of the results in Thrawn’s personal life, Vader was certain that the Empire would not be compromised.
The diplomatic encounter between the Chiss ambassy and Emperor Vader (and his High Command Grand General Veers, Grand Admiral Thrawn, and Grand Moff Piett) counted with the presence of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker and was surprisingly, blissfully swift and productive – certainly a combination of Chiss pragmatism and efficiency in the form of the Chiss ambassador, and Admiral Ar’alani’s invisible discomfort with Vader that must have invisibly influenced the Syndic presiding the entourage.
Thrawn had arranged for a lucrative treaty of cooperation between the Empire and the Ascendancy, Vader had to admit: a mutual military alliance that included the exclusive two-way sale of certain Imperial and Chiss weapons and craft; Imperial exportation of certain foods and raw metals with advantageous taxes; intel exchange; and the training of Force-sensitive Chiss by Jedi Master Luke Skywalker within Imperial space, from where the fully-trained Chiss would return to the Ascendancy.
And the diplomatic and linguistic bridge between the Empire and the Chiss Ascendancy was to be he. No longer an Imperial officer but an asset that Vader would have to share with the Ascendancy, who refused to let go of this convenient pawn and who had provided all the necessary flimsiwork for monetary compensation per intel tasks accomplished.
Eli N. Vanto.
Never before had Vader seen someone who looked so done and who felt so tempestuously conflicted in the Force.
Lieutenant Commander – or actually Legatus Vanto – did not have the powerful physique of a warrior, not the solemn airs of a mathematical genius, and much less the unreadable aura of a diplomat. In fact, he very much reminded Vader of Luke: small, lithe, youthful features even if he was obviously older than Luke, in need of a haircut, with the bright aura of a passionate life-form. But whereas Luke’s blue eyes had retained joviality and innocence in spite of everything he had gone through, Vanto had the dark eyes of a hardened man who was a misplaced hair away from committing war crimes.
During the formal meeting, Thrawn did not address Vanto – not informally, at least. Both stuck to protocol, acting as if nothing had ever happened between them. Vanto’s composure and professionalism were much appreciated and promising… but the turmoil within him that bled into the Force confirmed to Vader everything Thrawn had told him.
The Chiss was once again carrying his ysalamiri and, as such, his thoughts and emotions were hidden from Vader and Luke. The entire Chiss delegation was unreadable as well, even if Vader could pick impressive amounts of exasperation and discomfort from Admiral Ar’alani.
Even so, many times during the meeting, did Vader and Luke exchange glances and impressions through their Force-bond.
It was about 1300 when the treaties and agreements were signed and the meeting ended. The Imperial, Jedi, and Chiss delegations signed yet another agreement to preserve the secrecy of the Ascendancy and, finally, all moved into another chamber that had been prepared to hold the formal lunch for the delegations – served by droids whose memory was to be wiped in front of the Chiss.
That was when Thrawn and Vanto mysteriously disappeared, but no comments were made by anyone. Through the duration of the meal (that Vader merely presided to without eating) there was no sign of the Grand Admiral and the Legatus, and it wasn’t until Luke was touring the Chiss and Imperial delegations through the Archives and the (secluded) accommodations for his future Chiss apprentices that Vanto and Thrawn materialised in the rearguard of the party.
The ysalamiri draped leisurely over Thrawn’s shoulders could not mask the grief written all over Thrawn’s usually neutral face. And if the Chiss was failing to conceal that his reunion with Vanto had not gone well, then the redness of Vanto’s eyes and nose were sufficiently telling.
Everyone was graceful not to say a word – in fact, the other Chiss seemed quite adamant in not giving Thrawn much attention.
Only Luke - when the party disbanded with the Chiss (escorted by a hand-picked squad under Kimmund’s command) returning to their ship to depart the next day, and Veers and Piett leaving to attend to their routine tasks – followed Vanto at a distance as the Legatus strode towards the end of the corridor, to take the turbolift to the level where he would be processed into discharge from the Navy and registered into the diplomatic corps. (Not that the pompous title seemed to be a stable source of income, which worked perfectly with Vader’s and Luke’s ingenious plan.)
Belatedly, Vader noticed he and Thrawn had stayed behind.
There was a beat of silence, a reassurance that no witnesses had remained.
Then…
“My emotional state will not interfere with the performance of my duties,” Thrawn spoke softly, looking towards the turbolift that Vanto and Luke had taken. “I will depart tonight, as scheduled, to investigate the beginnings of a rebellion on Denon.”
“I expect nothing less,” Vader replied, remained professional and regal for a moment… and caved in to that weird yet gratifying sense of camaraderie he was now allowing himself to feel around his most trusted associates. “It did not go… well.”
There had been a time that prying secrets or private details from Thrawn had been impossible – not anymore, which was the clearest indicator of how emotionally compromised Thrawn was. Thrawn gave no verbal answer: he simply placed his ysalamiri on the floor, allowing it to wander and for Vader to probe him in the Force.
Never, in all the years he had known the Chiss, had Vader felt so much havoc swirling within Thrawn’s usually and infuriatingly put-together life-form. Many of the rampaging emotions echoed with the old, semi-healed wounds in Vader’s own soul, and in a moment of humility, Vader once again realised he was not the only one whose life was scarred by suffering and loss and love unfulfilled… but he was one of the few who had been given a second chance and who had salvaged something to start anew. Vader was privileged.
The silence stretched, uncomfortable and awkward. Thrawn remained straight-backed and still, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed in defeat and heartbreak in his eyes. He made no motion to retrieve his ysalamiri but he also didn’t look up at Vader. Thrawn must be painfully aware of how… informal… and unbecoming of an officer his position was.
And Vader was torn between allowing the horror of this predicament to take over and take refuge in formality and protocol… or being someone his son and his deceased wife would be proud of.
A strange, guttural sound from the vocoder signalled Vader clearing his throat as he hooked his thumbs to his belt.
“I have learned that neither Jedi nor Sith are right… or wrong,” Vader began, immediately drawing Thrawn’s glowing red gaze. “I have learned there’s a difference between letting go, giving up… and fighting for it.”
Next to him, Thrawn worked his jaw, and when he spoke his voice had a tentative, hopeful edge to it:
“Do you… see something?”
“If you are asking about visions, that is not how it works,” Inside his mask, Vader allowed himself to roll his eyes. “Search your feelings, Thrawn. You know what to do.”
Judging by how the Chiss furrowed his brow, Vader might as well have given him a mission he could not fail at.
Later, when Luke dropped by Vader’s office with a triumphant smile, Vader realised he had condemned Thrawn and Vanto to a battle to the death that might have devastating consequences to the professionalism that Vader so prized in his subordinates.
Or he might have helped a trusted ally.