[Thrawn waits at parade rest, hands behind his back, watching with a sort of mild disinterest counterintuitive to his usual intense like of foreign machinery. He is fast coming to the conclusion that there will be no escape from death for him, so why bother? He has failed utterly and completely.
He walks inside and down the stairs at Abel's prompting]
no subject
He walks inside and down the stairs at Abel's prompting]
Your Alliance equates size with strength?